A Chance Lost
by MaraudersAffair
Summary: It's hard when the only person you want happens to be married. Albus Severus and Scorpius Malfoy.


He didn't wear his robes that day. It was too hot – the sun creating that all too familiar musky scent throughout London and Diagon Alley. It was all very unfortunate, how the Muggles couldn't take care of their rubbish. Albus saw the numerous tin cans that lined the neighbourhood streets, their empty crisp bags and spoiled vegetables baking in the intense heat.

Sometimes he just couldn't believe his father had once lived as a Muggle – incompetent and dumb, going about life without knowledge of the wizarding world. It was quite preposterous, if you asked Albus, but he would never say that to his father. Magical folk were suppose to be kind, loving – understanding to their Muggle friends. What crap.

He licked his dry lips and fumbled with his white shirt, pulling down the hem past the pockets of his jeans, trying to conceal his wand. He wore jeans and pulled at the fabric around his thighs when no one was looking, longing for his trousers that happened to be lying wrinkled on his bathroom floor. Thick anxiety coursed through him, his chest tightening around each breath of air. He choked on his own saliva.

The park was crowded with loud Muggles and their bratty children, and he was relieved when he spotted Scorpius sitting on a wooden bench, waiting for him. The man looked like a pedophile to say the least, wearing heavy black robes that fell to his shins and revealed trousers of the same colour. His shoes were well-shined, unscratched, and Albus knew he had Apparated into the park. His hair had grown since the last time they met, and it perpetuated the pedophile appearance.

"You are a right fucker for Apparating here. The Muggles aren't blind, you know." He felt his tone was too aggravated, but Scorpius appeared unaffected, shrugging lazily with one shoulder.

"They can't touch me." There was a moment of silence, then Scorpius' drowsy eyes widened and focused, his back straightening as his cheeks flushed. Albus was mesmerized by the colour – and he wondered if it was because of the heat, or something else – something deep within that Scorpius could never quite explain.

Albus cleared his throat. "I'm staying at the Leaky Cauldron, if you care." He kicked a rock while he said this, feeling strangely exposed.

"I don't." The answer was simple, a soft voice that wrapped nicely with its dark tone.

"Why did you meet me here, then?" Albus spat, that silent anger within boiling to the surface of his skin, heating the flesh with a violent flush. Why had he even agreed to meet this fucking, fucking, _fucking_ prat?

Once again, Scorpius shrugged lazily, his face turned slightly away from Albus, his eyes still wide and attractive. Very attractive. Too attractive. He finally looked at Albus, expression hard – though, he didn't meet Albus' gaze, instead focusing on the top of his head.

Albus felt uncomfortably shy. "What?"

"Don't you own a fucking comb?"

"Sure, I do." Albus forced himself to smile, his lips struggling to spread upward.

"You should fucking use it sometime."

Their eyes lock, and he could feel his heart quicken, blood rushing downward, his lungs unable to hold the needed air. His lips were numb as he said, "Maybe you should fuck _me_ sometime."

Scorpius coughed, then fiddled with his collar for a moment. "I'm married."

"Do you fuck her into the mattress?"

Scorpius glanced at him, his eyebrows lifted to his hairline. There was a challenge within his eyes. "Every night."

"Do you like it?" Albus' stomach twisted into knots, fear drumming madly within him. He didn't want to be rejected.

"Of course – I wouldn't do it if I didn't like it."

Albus hummed in his throat. "Sure, logically." He tried not to appear unnerved. It became nearly impossible.

Pursing his lips, Scorpius stared at him, his eyes glinting strangely in the afternoon light. "Do you have a job yet?"

Albus glared at him. "That's none of your business."

"But my sex life with my wife is yours?"

This made Albus hesitate, warm embarrassment forming across his cheeks. He decided to take the easiest route. "Obviously. I thought you knew that."

Scorpius snorted, then shifted in his seat, crossing one leg over the other. "Things have changed, _obviously_."

Anger struck Albus with surprising power. He felt used – foolish in the most incompetent way. How dare Scorpius come here with the hint of something more, then reject Albus in such an cruel way. Asking him about a job! Everyone knew Albus couldn't hold a job. He had been unemployed for months now – whispers surfacing about _Harry Potter's spoiled brat._ It was quite degrading and he didn't need it from Scorpius as well.

Then Scorpius did something very unpredictable – he laughed. It was a shrilling sound, filled with mocking humour that made the anger within Albus boil to the surface, fighting for a way out. He clenched his fists in his lap, a hazy mist blocking his view as his eyes became unfocused from the empowering emotion.

"You fucking git!" Albus said through gritted teeth as he stood, bracing himself so he could get a good hit at the man in front of him. But Scorpius was just as fast – jumping to his feet and grabbing Albus' hand once it came flying at him. Scorpius shoved his arm down and across his chest, a painful ache developing within Albus' shoulder.

Scorpius' grip was strong, tightening as Albus struggled, embarrassing filth dripping from his lips, words that at first glance were meaningless, but god, _oh god_, Scorpius would see straight through his anger and recognise his vulnerability. He wanted Scorpius – the need was overwhelming – if only the bastard would just allow it for one night, that's all Albus wanted. Just one night.

"Please, fuck – let's just go somewhere," Albus whispered, licking his chapped lips in desperation. He felt Scorpius' hand begin to tremble, a soft groan escaping from his closed mouth.

"There is something called marriage vows, you know," he spat, his icy eyes like daggers, burning with what appeared to be intense hatred. Albus knew better.

"Come on," he breathed, moving closer so their faces were mere inches apart, "for old time's sake."

Scorpius closed his eyes, his breathing becoming harsh, his cheeks reddening. Albus watched as the colour spread down his neck, past the collar of his shirt. God, if only Albus could see beyond the man's robes and shirt, to his chest and stomach, further and further. It most definitely would cure him of this 

undeniable need, this aching warmth spreading throughout his abdomen and his groin.

"All right," Scorpius said in a soft voice, his chest shuddering as he tried to calm his breathing, "fuck, anything. Okay?"

Albus' stomach knotted painfully at his words, his throat tightening as the word _anything_ played over and over within his mind. He'd do anything with Albus? Would he allow Albus to fuck him? Anything meant everything, right? He had never allowed Albus to have such control when they were younger. Never.

Albus wondered what had changed.

"Good," he responded, trying to sound seductive. He would have kissed Scorpius if they hadn't been in public. He could only imagine what those religious Muggles would have done. "Let's go back to my room."

The edge of Scorpius' cheek twitched, his eyes suddenly losing their colour until a somber-like feeling washed through them. His breathing was haggard now – almost like he was hyperventilating. Albus could see the struggle going on inside him.

"Look," Albus said, his voice trembling slightly, "just don't think, all right? Nothing bad is going to happen. I know you want it as much as I do. Come on."

Scorpius turned his head and looked beyond the trees of the park, watching as the far sun began to settle within the horizon. His eyes were moving swiftly back and forth in thought, the wheels in his mind turning, until finally the man looked to Albus again, a slight grin upon his face.

"All right, yes," he said, his voice soft but strong. It was the tone of a man who knew what he wanted.

Albus grinned widely. "All right."

**.:.**

The room was dark once Albus had closed the door behind them. He felt Scorpius move past him, further into the shadows. There was a moment of motionless silence, blood rushing through Albus' veins, numbing his fingers as an unbelievable arousal rushed to his groin. Then Scorpius lit a candle from the corner, the yellow light creating harsh lines within Scorpius' features.

He turned to face Albus, and it seemed that the space between them shuddered with the same intensity. Albus watched as an array of different emotions played across Scorpius' features. Embarrassment. Doubt. Need. Hunger. It was all there and the actuality that this was happening, right here – right now was overwhelming. Scorpius was finally his again. He couldn't believe his luck.

For a strange moment he felt something he hadn't experienced since Hogwarts. It made that familiar pressure within his chest lighten – each breath able to pass freely without the usual pain in his lungs. Happiness – that was the only way he could explain it. It was strange to realise he was actually enjoying himself.

Gulping down his own doubt, Albus searched for his voice. "Please," he managed, lifting a hand toward Scorpius to beckon him forward.

Scorpius hesitated, then moved toward Albus with surprising speed. His lips were suddenly on Albus', forcing him to gasp, and then moan as he allowed Scorpius to take control. He leaned back, wrapping his arms around Scorpius' waist, his chin brushing against Scorpius' unshaved cheek. He felt strong hands claw at his back, sharp nails scratching his skin through his flimsy shirt. God, why did Scorpius have to wear his robes?

Pressing forward, Albus tried to unbutton his robes, his fingers trembling too much for him to do any 

good. He felt Scorpius smirk against his lips, and he wanted nothing more than to wipe that smirk from his face, to replace it with an expression of immense pleasure. Giving up, his hands moved up to curl around locks of blond hair, trying with all his might to bring them closer.

He felt Scorpius' tongue sweep across his parted lips when Scorpius suddenly pulled away, yanking his arm away as he looked down at his watch. Albus stared at him, dazed with lidded eyes, heart pounding uncontrollably in his chest. A small line appeared along Scorpius' forehead and he sighed loudly, scrubbing his face with the back of his hand.

Without looking at Albus, he turned away and tapped his wand against his wrist watch, waiting for a moment before it lit up. Albus closed his eyes as he tried to swallow down the bile beginning to creep forward in his throat. He knew what sort of device was in that watch – Scorpius' wife was calling for him.

_God fucking damnit. Damn it all to hell!_

Still not meeting Albus' gaze, Scorpius said, "We both know this has been a mistake." He swallowed a few times, trying to calm his breathing. "I need to go now. Marion will know –"

"Don't say her name!" Albus spat, his anger flaring at Scorpius' words.

Scorpius finally lifted his head to look at him. His cocked his head to side. "I bought this only as a joke – until I realised what an impression it made. When I got your letter, my first instinct was to burn it and never to reply." He paused as he looked down to rummage through his robes. "But, as you know, memories are hard to deny."

He pulled out something wrapped in brown paper. He leaned forward to give it to Albus, and Albus snatched it from his hands, his whole body now shaking with fury.

"What the fuck is it?"

Scorpius shrugged. "Open it up."

Albus glared at him suspiciously, then ripped the wrapping off. To say that he was surprised would've been an understatement. He stared, gaping, at the two men on the cover of the magazine, moving silently as they fucked each other in what appeared to be a public loo. The men looked very similar to Albus and Scorpius.

"You are fucking insane! Why the_ fuck _would you give this to me?" Albus yelled, spittle flying from his mouth. He threw the magazine and it hit Scorpius in the shoulder, bouncing off to land on the bed. "Why did you lead me on like this? Why didn't you fucking grow some balls and just tell me that you didn't want me in that park! You fucking, fucking COWARD!"

A hand closed painfully around his neck before he could even protest, knocking him into the side of the bed. He gasped for air, staring straight into Scorpius' enraged expression. Albus felt his scalding breath against his cheeks and lips, and he sucked the musky scent into his mouth, trying to hold onto the feeling of their kisses.

"Don't – you _ever_ call me a coward! You fucking got that, Potter?" Scorpius said hoarsely, his grip on Albus trembling from the emotion surging through him.

Albus was too astonished to respond. All he could do was nod in the most pitiful way.

Closing his eyes as he took a deep breath, Scorpius released Albus and stepped back. He pointed to the magazine lying on the bed. "Don't assume it's rubbish. It could come in handy – I know it did for me." His voice softened as he said this, taking on an almost saddened tone. It made Albus shiver uncontrollably.

Embarrassingly, Albus felt hot tears form in the corner of his eyes, and he turned his face away from Scorpius, unable to look the man in the face. He would rather die than allow _Malfoy_ to see him cry.

"She'll be wondering where I happened to if I don't go now."

Albus crossed his arms over his chest. "Go, then. I'm not stopping you." He could hear the tears in his own voice. What a fucking nightmare.

Scorpius looked as if he wanted to say something, but then closed his mouth and gritted his teeth, walking out of the room with a _click _of the door. The moment he was gone Albus flung himself onto his bed, pulling the pillow up to face so he could smother his scream. He allowed the salty tears to escape from his eyes, dripping onto the bedding, snot from his nose smearing onto the pillow cover.

He pounded his fist into the bed, wanting to rip the whole thing into bits with his bare hands. He allowed himself to sob freely, not caring if it was unbecoming or not. He was devastated – and he hated himself for feeling this way.

He suddenly ceased to move, lying with his face pressed into the pillow for long moments, squeezing his eyes closed until bright flashes of light erupted on the inside of his lids. Finally calm, he pushed himself over, feeling a sudden lump under his back. His hand searched blindly, then pulled out the slightly crinkled magazine.

Weak anger washed through him once more, his reddened eyes staring at the two beautiful men on the cover. That would have been Scorpius and him if his stupid watch hadn't suddenly glowed. _Don't kid yourself_, a voice deep within whispered, he never wanted you to begin with. _Even when you were younger_. Albus felt another wave of tears surfacing, his jaw slightly trembling as emotion took over. He could still feel the ghost of Scorpius' lips against his, warm and inviting, demanding more from Albus.

Moaning, he flipped open the magazine, searching for _something_ that would quench his need. God, those lucky, lucky men. It seemed like they were having the time of their lives – heads thrown back in pleasure, their eyes twisted closed as they moved together in passionate thrusts. Albus could even see the sweat dripping down their skin, the photographs black and white, but still very pleasing.

He didn't want to do it – didn't want to give into his pitiful desires. He knew that it would just make him even more desperate, but as his fingers flipped through the glossy pages, the bulge in his jeans became more prominent. There was no way he could ignore it any longer.

Closing his eyes, he allowed his hand to drift lower, nails sliding over his shirt and slipping under the waist of his pants. He cupped himself through his underpants, palm rubbing slowly over the hard warmth. His legs relaxed into the bedding and pushed the magazine to the floor, spreading wide, as his toes began to curl within his shoes.

He felt the muscles in his stomach convulse, tightening as his arousal grew higher. Light suddenly flashed from behind his eyelids, and he allowed the image of Scorpius – seventeen and naked – fill his mind. He sucked in a quick breath of air, as he imagined the way Scorpius felt within his arms – bare chest to bare chest. Pushing the damp cloth of his underpants to the side, he gripped his cock firmly in the tight space inside his jeans, trying to remember the way Scorpius felt in his hand. Had he been thicker or longer? Albus' brow furrowed as he searched his memories for how exactly Scorpius liked to be wanked off.

He moved his hand slowly up and down, reveling in the sparks of pleasure at the base of his spine, his legs and feet numbing as the blood rushed to his groin. His hand caught in his underpants once his strokes quickened, and he had to stop to unbutton and pull his jeans off, kicking them off with his shoes. His underpants twisted around his left ankle, but he had no concern as he resumed his leisurely pace.

Biting down hard on his bottom lip, he wondered what Scorpius would have done if he had stayed. Those urgent lips moving further down, sucking at the delicate skin on his neck and behind his ear, nipping softly 

as Albus' moans encouraged him. God, Albus would have became impatient very quickly, maybe even slamming Scorpius against something hard – like the desk or wall. He'd rip at Scorpius' robes, tearing the fabric dramatically, not caring if Scorpius would have to mend it before he went back to his dear wife.

He would force Scorpius to his knees, and push his face forward into Albus' waiting cock. He'd make Scorpius smell his arousal – feel the dampening cloth. Then Albus would have made him unzip his pants with trembling fingers, watching every moment as Scorpius took him into his mouth, those pale lips stretching over Albus, gagging from the length.

Albus would smirk, then say something dumb like, _Big enough for you?_

Gasping heavily, he bent his knees and coated his fingers with precome, reaching down to smear it against his opening. He pushed a finger inside himself, wincing as his nail slid over the vulnerable flesh. He hesitated as his body grew accustom to the intrusion, then sped up his strokes as he tried to thrust his finger in and out. Soon he realised that he couldn't concentrate on both tasks, so he let his cock fall from his grasp, hand moving to cup his balls before resting against his inner thigh.

Air escaped his lungs as he added another finger, sliding it into his dry warmth to the knuckle. He gritted his teeth and wished that his wand was not lying inside the pocket of his jeans. A shaking arm supported his weight as he raised himself into a sitting position, his fingers suddenly able to reach further inside. Panting, he thrust his fingers hard enough to push himself off the bed, the muscles in his arm straining to keep him upright. He struggled to add a third finger – but with inadequate lubrication, the friction was almost unbearable.

Collapsing on his bed, he turned his attention to his weeping erection. Spitting into his hand, he once again gripped his cock, but this time his strokes were lightening fast, speeding up with his mounting arousal. His mind went dead, all thoughts of Scorpius and the outside world disappearing, his thoughts only of release and satisfaction.

Indistinct grunts and words spilled from his mouth, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he came in his hand, his come splattering against his thighs and dripping down his hand to his stomach. He heaved a breath as he felt his head swam, the blood in his temples beating in rhythm with his heart. Dazed, he rolled to his side and wiped his hand on the blanket, crawling forth so he could reach his wand on the floor.

Whispering a cleansing spell, he felt exhaustion overwhelm him as he pulled the bedding over himself. He would think about Scorpius tomorrow.

The End


End file.
